Life Goes On
by forever21lupus
Summary: The southern Georgia weather got almost as harsh and cold as Riley during the winter. The difference is, Riley didn't defrost when the weather got warmer.
1. Preface

A case could be made that Simmie represented Riley's humanity. Her emotions, her reason, her sense of right-and-wrong all resided in one woman. While Simmie was around, Riley was human. She gave thought to her decisions, albeit very little, and always put up with the consequences of her actions.

But take away a person's humanity, and what does that leave you with? Certainly someone not human. A block of ice; cruel, unyielding, and cold. Riley was ice. How useful is ice? All it does is cool someone's sweet tea and melt.

But all it took was a block of ice to sink the Titanic.

* * *

Riley was drowning.

She scrambled desperately, grabbing at her captor's strong hands entangled in her hair. She struggled, kicking and sucking the water deep into her lungs.  
She started coughing, sending scours of bubbles to the top of the dirty basin she currently had her head thrust in. Her head got dizzy, and the grimy water started to blur and fade away.

Riley's eyes snapped open, and she greedily inhaled the crisp Georgia air. She coughed, pushing her sweaty hair back from her face and staring up at the dark stars through the trees.

"You 'kay?" Daryl grunted beside her, not bothering to open his eyes.

"Just a nightmare," Riley answered, glancing around at their straggling group splayed in the clearing. T-Dog, who was on watch, nodded at her.

"Sleep," Daryl commanded groggily before he fell back asleep.

Riley sniffed, laying back down next to Daryl. She knew she wouldn't get anymore sleep that night, but she didn't protest against him. She knew how worried he was about her, and she didn't want to stress him any further. If there was anything she cared about now, it was Daryl.

In the morning, they were going to go check out the prison Rick and Daryl had found yesterday. Riley knew how much the group needed this prison; it could be home for them. She was planning to do whatever it takes to clear it.

With the thoughts of slaying walkers in her mind, Riley waited patiently for morning.

* * *

_Life Goes On_

* * *

"If we can just get across and shut that gate, we'll be fine," Rick stated.

"I'll do it," Glenn immediately, valiantly offered. "I'm the fastest."

"No, I can do it," Maggie countered.

They'd been through this same ordeal multiple times during the winter. Rick proposed a risky situation, they cycled through the viable people, but it always usually ended up being Riley or Rick. Riley had a suspicion that she was the only one he trusted to be able to get a job done, other than himself. Of course, he trusted Daryl more, but Riley was the better killer.

"No, I'm gonna do it," Rick stated in his deep drawl. "Riley'll back me up."

Riley listened as Rick instructed the rest of the group to their appropriate positions. She shared a nod with Daryl before Rick opened the gate.

They both slipped in behind an overturned car, pulling their weapons out from their belts. A bit of their group was doing a good job of distracting the bulk of the walkers, but there were still a few stragglers.

Riley twirled the machetes in her hands before tightening her grip and sprinting across the field beside Rick. She went out of her way to decapitate a few of the monsters before Rick finally reprimanded her with a sharp hiss.

Riley fell back into step beside him, and they made it all the way to the gate before the walkers at the fence noticed them. They began to stumble over, and Riley slit across their faces, dancing around the demons and keeping them as far away as possible.

Rick disappeared up in the guard tower, climbing all the way to the top.

"Riley!" Daryl shouted, trying to get her out of the way; she was blocking everyone's shot.

She ignored him, too caught up in her blood lust to recognize anything other than the dying gurgles of the walkers as they choked on their own flesh.

Rick shook his head, sharing an irritated glance with Daryl from across the field. All winter she'd been like this; any glance with Daryl from across the field. All winter she'd been like this; any chance she got to kill a walker, even if it was unnecessary, she took it. It didn't take a genius to understand that she had a personal vendetta with the things. Ever since Simmie's death, this was how she was getting revenge.

The dozen or so walkers were scattered around the field, and Riley sprinted around the enclosure, knocking each one down like a ping-pong ball.

Rick shot the last few, and Riley slid to a stop. She whirled around, narrowing her eyes and fixing him with a glare that would make someone else tremble. He returned it unflinchingly, and she spat on the ground, stalking away to the door.

She opened the gate, and the rest of their group filed into the pasture. Lori reached out to touch the agent's shoulder, but Riley shrugged away, hard eyes focused on something distant. She headed up the hill towards the gate they just shut, passing Daryl and Carol on the way.

"Hey!" Daryl called.

Riley ignored him, set on her destination.

"Hey, I'm talkin' ta ya!" Daryl exclaimed, jogging after her and spinning her around. She had that damn mask on her face, the one that made it near impossible for him to tell what she was thinking. "That was pretty intense," he told her.

Riley didn't answer.

"Ri, you're scarin' folks," Daryl pointed out in a mutter, glancing over at Carl, who was staring anxiously at them. As soon as he noticed the couple was staring back at him, he quickly looked away.

"Carl's not scared of me," Riley denied. "I train him."

"You scare everybody," Daryl admitted in a whisper, a faint smirk crossing his lips.

Riley's stiffness melted, and Daryl knew she wasn't on defense anymore. "Fear means respect," she told him, and the pair headed back towards the group.

"Naw, fear means you end up with a knife in the back o' yer head," Daryl retorted, kicking away a corpse on the ground.

"I'd like to see someone try," Riley said. Back on the farm, that would've been accompanied with a small smile and maybe a nudge with the shoulder. Now she wore her trademark scowl, though it was barely there.

If Daryl had thought she was hard to read before, it was nothing compared to now. Before she'd been masked for the sake of protecting herself; now she was as cruel and unyielding as her mask. Her eyes were what gave her away now; that and her shoulders. When she was content, the upper lid would lift and the corners would crease just slightly. Upset, the ends would dip down.

Riley, T-Dog, Glenn, and Maggie went on cleanup duty while Daryl kept watch, Rick examined the fence, and the women tended to Lori.

"You gon' kill yourself, girl," T-Dog stated, watching as Riley attempted to haul three walkers at the same time.

"It's good exercise," she answered, pulling her hand across the cadaver's arm, his rotting skin sticking to her palm.

"Aw, tha's nasty," T-Dog said, his face turning green.

"What, this?" Riley asked, waving her hand up in the air, skin still hanging from her palm.

"Man, keep the hell away from me!"

Riley cocked a brow, standing up and stepping towards him.

"Shit!" T-Dog cursed, nearly face-planting in his desperate scramble to get away.

A hesitant smile split across Riley's face, as T-Dog staggered up from his knees. He turned around, his eyes huge as the skin finally dropped from her palm. He laughed, rubbing his sweaty head.

"Geez, 007," he muttered, barking another laugh.

Riley slowly chuckled, reaching down and tossing the decayed skin over the fence.

* * *

When night finally came, Riley stretched out next to the fire, turning her back to the group. She keenly watched Daryl on top of the car with Carol, narrowing her eyes as he began to rub the older woman's shoulders.

Riley sighed, a small bit of pain squirming in her chest as she looked away. She'd done a good job of keeping her emotions bottled up, but when it came to Daryl she felt like an open book. Daryl was so keen and smart, especially when it came to her. He had her down; he could read any of her emotions.

Rick finally came down from the fence and dropped the bomb that they would have to fight some more tomorrow. Of course, to Riley, it wasn't a problem, but to the others it was an ordeal. They did put up a good face, however.

"We're running low on ammo," Rick announced. "So we'll have to go hand-to-hand. Riley can give us a quick lesson in the morning, if that's alright with her."

Riley knew Rick was purposely trying to draw her into the group; he always pulled annoying crap like that. Riley held a thumb's up over her hip, refusing to turn over.  
There were a few snorts and chuckles around the fire, and Daryl and Carol finally walked up.

Daryl came over to Riley, pushing her up and sitting back down, setting her head in his lap. She sighed, staring up at him.

"We have to clear the courtyard tomorrow. No guns," Riley informed, her voice low and quiet.

Beth began to sing, filling the air with the sweet melody of the Parting Glass.

"Lucky you," Daryl stated.

"Daryl," Riley started, making Daryl glance down at her in surprise at her seriousness. "Do I need to be jealous of Carol?"

He smirked. "Ya're jealous?"

"I'm serious," Riley retorted, the corner of her lips tugging up slightly.

Daryl smirked even wider, leaning down and pressing his lips against hers. He pulled away, his blue eyes reflecting in the fire.

Riley smiled very faintly, closing her eyes and crossing her hands over her stomach.

"I miss ya singin'," Daryl stated as Maggie joined in with Beth.

Riley just grunted, not bothering to open her eyes.

"Why don't ya sing?"

Riley just opened her eyes, the corners dipping down. "I don't want to," she whispered.

"An' fill ta me," Daryl started singing, his voice hoarse and way off tune. Riley furrowed her brow, looking up at him in surprise. "The partin' glass."

She snorted, glancing over at the fire. The few people closest to them had heard Daryl and were staring like he'd grown another head.

"Come on, Ri," he urged, bouncing his legs. "An' drink a health whate'er befalls."

"Whate'er befalls," Riley began, her voice mingling with his his. She rolled her eyes but continued to sing, harmonizing with the two other girls.

"Goodnight and joy be with you all," Riley finished in a whisper, glancing back up at Daryl.

He smirked, and she slapped his stomach, sitting up. "Shut up." She stood, and the two of them retreated away from the group to lay down by themselves.

"Ya gon' sleep tonight?" Daryl asked as Riley got comfortable next to him.

"Doubt it," she answered.

Daryl sighed, propping up his head with his arm.

"Go to sleep," Riley ordered.

"Don' tell me what to do, bitch."

"Dick," she shot back, closing her eyes.

"Brat."

"Shut up."


	2. Chapter 1

The next few days passed in a messy blur of knives and blood. It was a constant battle: sleep, eat, fight. Except, for Riley, there wasn't much sleeping or eating. But she was used to fighting; she'd done it all her life, and she knew she was cursed to always do it. But fighting wasn't always a curse. For the past few months, it had been an escape. A way to forget about how screwed up her life was. All she had to do was put everything to the back of her mind and focus on nothing but her instincts and the blade in her hands.

That's why, on the second day, while everyone else slept in the area they'd cleared out, she snuck deeper into the prison and worked on slaughtering as many of the walkers as she could. She took her time, cutting through one after another. Of course, eventually she got swamped and had to turn back.

Rick had chewed her out pretty bad for it. It wasn't hard to piece together what had happened when they woke up and she was covered in fresh, still-dripping blood as well as a few bruises from falling and banging into walls. And instead of taking her punishment like a good little soldier like she would've back on the farm, she walked away in the middle of his monologue. Rick, of course, was fuming afterwards and didn't talk to her for a solid two days. Maybe if she was someone else, someone not detrimental to their group's survival, he might've kicked her out. But seeing as she was exactly what they needed in this world, she got special privileges. It was unlike her to take advantage of those privileges, but at this point she really didn't care.

She'd do what she wanted, when she wanted, and she didn't give a shit what anyone else thought.

Life Goes On

**«** Chapter One **»**

"It's Hershel!"

Riley sprung up off the mattress like a cat, muscles tensed and knives clenched in both hands. There was nothing about her offensive position that hinted to the fact that she was caught up in a vivid nightmare merely seconds ago.

A group wheeled in some kind of cart, Hershel laying limp and bloody on top. She watched confusedly from the perch as everyone rushed him into one of the cells. To her groggy, half-awake eyes, there seemed to be no threat other than the fact that Hershel was clearly dying.

She descended from the upper level, glancing in the cell and grimacing at his missing leg. Her eyes scanned the group, and she quickly noticed Daryl wasn't with them.

Panic gripped her heart, cold and frantic. She reached forward, snatching Maggie and forcefully pulling her out of the cell. "Where's Daryl?" she demanded.

"I- I dunno, he was right behind us!" she exclaimed, trying to get away from Riley's tight grip.

Riley released her, turning and stalking out through the open door, planning to wreak hell on anything that stood in her path. She stopped short, relaxing slightly when she saw him standing next to the table. She swiftly noticed his tense shoulders and the crossbow aimed steadily at the open door.

Riley frowned, coming to stand just behind him as a figure appeared in the doorway. She kept her knives at her sides; Daryl could handle one walker. But as Daryl didn't release an arrow and the figure eased its way into the light, it became apparent that this was no walker. Five men donned in prison uniforms entered the room, warily eyeing Daryl.

"Cell block C. That's mine, gringo," the Spanish man in front stated. His walk clearly gave him away as the leader and a forceful, belligerent one at that.

"It's your lucky day, boys."

"Come on, man," the tallest – and biggest – one whined. "That old guy's injured!"

"We should just go," another chimed nervously.

"Naw, we ain't goin' anywhere. We were here first."

Daryl shot up, and the Spanish ripped a gun out of his belt. Riley scowled, stepping forward aggressively. The man pointed the gun at her, but she didn't waver. "Put it down," she demanded.

"Well, anything for a lady," he sneered sarcastically, readjusting his grip on the handle.

"Put it down, or I'll make you," she threatened.

He barked a hoarse laugh. "That's real cute, _culito."_

Riley snorted humorlessly. _"Tenga cuidado de lo que dices, pendejo."_

The man cocked his eyebrows. "_Ah, una gringa con acitud."_

T-Dog stormed into the room, gun held up at the leader. It wasn't long until it turned into a three-way racial shouting fest. Riley rolled her eyes, fed up with the ever-rising level of testosterone in the room.

Rick entered finally, quickly taking control of the situation. Riley watched carefully as they went outside and bargained food for cell area. She knew right off the bat the Spanish man would be a problem; his body language was a clear indicator, but the gang tattoos only worked against him.

"What's up?" T-Dog questioned lowly in the courtyard as Rick argued with the prison group. Daryl kept his eyes on the prisoners, but Riley could tell by the slight cock of his head that he was listening to her as well.

"Spanish one's a problem," she muttered. "Big guy's a gentle giant, so's the skinny blonde."

"The rest?" T asked.

"Not sure yet," she answered. "The short black man's pretty loyal to Mexico."

They delivered the food back to their cells, checking up on Hershel before heading out to another wing to clear off another cellblock. Riley didn't miss Daryl quietly relaying her diagnosis of the men to Rick as they walked.

Riley wanted to be let loose on the walkers in the halls, but Rick wanted to show the prisoners the ropes. Riley, still fuming over the fact that no one woke her up to go find the cafeteria, stood in the back, next to the Gentle Giant.

The fighting became intense, and Riley stood on the balls of her feet, twisting her machete handles in her hands eagerly. Just when she was about to shove her way through the bodies and take control, she noticed Big Tiny edging backwards. She ignored him, refocusing her attention on the fighting.

She was so engulfed that she didn't notice the two walkers come up to the man. Two walkers wouldn't be a big deal to any one else, especially not to a man of that size, but the guy was too gentle for them. They were too much for him to handle.

When Riley finally noticed, it was too late. Big Tiny was already ripped open. She took quick care of the walkers and watched in masked disgust as Tomas murdered the man like he was nothing but another walker.

They quickly made their way down to the prisoners' future cellblock, Riley carefully standing in front of Tomas and blocking him from the rest of the group. When they got to the room, Riley stood next to Tomas, flipping the machetes eagerly in her hands. Rick instructed Tomas to open one door, but he yanked open both.

"Shit!" T-Dog cursed as half a dozen walkers and more coming poured into the room.

Riley instantly jumped forward, beheading one and taking out another's eyes before dancing backwards.

Thomas whirled his weapon around in a wide circle, and Riley nearly fell in an attempt to avoid the knife. She realized his target had really been Rick, and Riley'd just gotten in the way.

The nearest walker took advantage of her unbalance, falling on top of her. She slammed against the ground - the walker was a three-hundred plus pound man - and her arm was trapped underneath her. The knife in her other hand had been knocked out of her fingers, so she used that arm to push away his snapping jaws. Spittle dripped onto her face, and she pressed her lips together so as to not accidentally swallow any.

The teeth were inches away. Riley pushed her chest against his in a futile attempt to put some distance between them; he was to heavy to pull her arm out.

She tried to roll over so she would be on top, but he wouldn't budge. Her growl of frustration quickly turned into a grunt of pain as another walker dropped on them. Her arm flared before going numb all the way down to her fingertips.

She gritted her teeth, pushing as hard as she could against the walker's chest, but he seemed completely oblivious to her movements. Its rotten breath pooled into her face, the teeth snapping eagerly hardly an inch away.

T-Dog shoved his crowbar through the ear of the top walker, and Daryl grabbed the huge walker by the hair. He snatched up its head, thrusting his hunting knife through the skull.

"Ya okay?" Daryl asked, pulling her up to her feet.

"Fine," she answered, rubbing her injured shoulder. She glanced around at the scattered corpses before looking at Rick and Tomas, just as Rick split open Tomas' skull.

Riley blinked in surprise, scowling as Daryl came over and examined her arm. She yanked it away, her forest eyes hard.

Rotating her arm, she reached down and picked up her dropped knives and pushing them back into her belt. The shorter black man sprinted away, and Rick chased after him.

"Get down!" T-Dog demanded to the two surviving men of the prison group.

"He's fine," Riley stated, waving towards the blonde. T and Daryl shared a frown before letting the man stand back up.

"Uh- Uh, my friend here won't hurt nobody. He's a good man," the blonde stammered.

"Funny, considering the circumstances," Riley shot back. "Your name."

"A-Axel. That's Oscar."

Rick jogged back into the room, lips clamped tightly and eyes strained. Riley glanced at him, and he nodded; all she needed to figure that Andrew was dead.

"Axel. Oscar," she informed, pointing at them respectively. Rick raised his knife towards Axel, who was standing, but Riley cut him off: "He's good."

"On the ground," Rick growled anyways, and Axel glanced back and forth between Rick and Riley, confused on who was top dog.

"You heard him," Riley barked. "Down."

Axel obeyed, dropping to his knees. "I swear, I ain't ever hurt nobody!"

"Shut up!" Rick commanded loudly. Riley furrowed her brow; he always got worked up like that whenever he was stressed from making a big decision.

"You two, stay here. If I ever see you again, I'll kill you," Rick added, blue eyes full of malice before he stomped out.

* * *

Riley walked stiffly into their cell block, nearly getting tackled by Carl.

"Riley! Are we gonna train today?" he demanded, drawing his mother's attention from across the room.

"No, kid," Riley barked, walking around him. Lori sighed, turning her gaze back down to the clothes in her lap.

"Riley," Daryl called from behind her.

"What?" she asked, reaching for the ladder that led up to their perch. She raised her right shoulder, and it popped, a flare of pain rushing up her arm. She hissed, climbing the ladder with just her left arm.

"You gonna let me see your arm or not?" Daryl asked, irritated.

"I'm fine," she shot back. "God," she added under her breath, dropping onto the two mattresses they shoved together.

Daryl stared down at her for a second before shaking his head and climbing back down the ladder.

Riley listened quietly as Hershel woke up, walker-virus free. She sighed, reaching up and pushing her knotted hair away from her face. She couldn't remember the last time she'd brushed her mess of tangles; as long as it fit in a ponytail it was okay.

Riley turned onto her other shoulder, looking at their clustered group. She sat up, watching Daryl lean in the cell doorway. He glanced up, catching her gaze and offering her a small smile.

The corners of her lips flickered up. Today was a success, unless you were part of the prison group.

Daryl chucked, and Riley furrowed her brow, tipping her head. "What?" she mouthed. He pointed around his head, gesturing towards his hair.

She figured he meant her hair, and she just rolled her eyes. He chuckled again, and she laid back down, sighing deeply.

* * *

The night came and went, and Riley actually got a few snatches of sleep. Of course, what sleep she got was riddled with horrific nightmares, but – according to anyone else in the group – sleep was sleep, and Riley needed it.

"Riley, can I talk to you?" Lori asked.

Riley looked up at her from the shoelaces of her combat boots, cocking an eyebrow. She straightened up and strode out into the courtyard.

Taking that as a yes, Lori avoided the curious looks from the women in the cell, following her outside. Rick and Daryl were down by the main gate, checking it out and discussing tactics. Glenn and Maggie were up in the watchtower, and the rest of their group was inside.

Riley stopped next to the rusty bleachers, turning around and crossing her arms.

Lori sighed, licking her lips. Normally, she avoided any kind of contact with the belligerent woman; she honestly scared the mom. But lately, she'd been trying to reach out. She suspected that there was a lonely, depressed girl trapped inside the cruel shell she hid herself in. Daryl wasn't exactly the kind of person to listen while someone spilled their guts, so Lori thought that Riley was lacking in that department.

"I'm going to have the baby soon," she started, rubbing her extremely swollen belly. "I'm not stupid; I probably won't live through the childbirth."

"No," Riley agreed stonily.

_Well don't sugarcoat it, _Lori thought, immediately dismissing the negative feelings. She focused on the Riley that cried when she lost her best friend; that was who she was trying to talk to. "Rick might be devastated, he might not. It's hard to get a read on him these days. Either way, he'll be busy leading the group. I would ask Daryl, but he's … Daryl." Lori snorted slightly in amusement, shaking her head. Riley didn't crack a smile. "If I die having this baby, I want you to take care of it."

Riley's blink was all that gave away her surprise.

"I want you to train him or her. You know how to survive in this world better than anyone else; just show her how to fight. Please."

"I'm not a babysitter," Riley retorted, turning and making for Rick and Daryl.

"Please!" Lori begged, grabbing the woman's arm. Riley quickly yanked her arm away, but she listened. "You don't have to be if you don't want to be. I just want my baby to _survive. _You and Daryl are the best at that, and Daryl doesn't know how to fight like you do. Just give her a chance."

"I won't be responsible for anymore lives," Riley stated, her voice completely flat and devoid of emotion.

Lori's heart panged; she knew Riley was talking about Simmie. "Listen, I miss her too. You won't be responsible for my baby, I swear. If you show her from _birth_ how to fight and how to … to _kill_, she'll be just as adept as you. If not better."

Riley stared at the desperate woman. "I don't even like you."

"I know you don't," Lori responded. "Do it for Rick. Think of all the things he's done for you. If you can't conjure up the decency to want to help him, then do it because you owe him."

Riley's eyes sparked, and she scowled deeply. She didn't bother answering the woman; she just turned on her heel and stalked back into the prison, passing the rest of their group as they filed out of the building.

Lori gritted her teeth, shaking her head. Though she knew she made a valid point about Riley owing Rick, she wasn't sure if Riley would honor that.

"What was that about?" Carol asked.

"I'll tell you later," Lori answered, deciding to take Riley's decision on faith.

* * *

Riley sat down on one of the stone tables, propping her feet up on the seat. She untied one of her boots, slamming it against the table and scowling at the cloud of dust that rose up.

Something clicked far away. Riley stiffened, straining her ears to detect another oddity in the silence. She stared at the gate open to the hallway, quietly slipping her boot back on.

A faint growl bounced off the walls, and she slowly reached for her knife at her belt. Before she could do anymore, a dozen walkers suddenly poured in through the gate, quickly followed by another dozen.

Riley whirled around, starting to run towards the cell block, but another horde of walkers cut her off. They caught sight of her, and the silence was replaced with growls and groans as they stiffly ran towards her.

There was no time to get to either door and close them. Riley's back was - quite literally - against the wall.

As she examined the dozens of walkers, she readjusted her grip on her knife.

It wasn't the worst way to die.

* * *

Daryl ignored Axel as he started offering to help with his motorcycle. He had it perfectly under control; plus, what would touching up a bike do? It wouldn't get the desperate man a place in their group.

He glanced up at Rick, who was staring at the courtyard. Daryl followed his gaze towards Lori, who was blushing and smiling.

Daryl didn't bother to comment on the strangeness of their relationship. He just shook his head, turning back to his bike. He was thankful that he was with Riley; there was no drama with that woman. No stress, no complications. If she was mad, she'd tell him; if she ever stopped liking him, she would say so. Riley was impulsive, but she wasn't the type to lead someone on.

Daryl was startled out of his thoughts when Rick suddenly bellowed, "Behind you!"

Daryl jumped to his feet, watching as walkers filled in the courtyard. His heart skipped as he desperately tried to find Riley.

"Lori!" Rick screamed, sprinting towards the courtyard as shrieks and gunshots started ringing out. Daryl didn't need any encouragement to pull out his crossbow and chase after Rick.

They stormed into the courtyard, killing as many as they could. Daryl darted up to Hershel and Beth, who had closed themselves off behind a small gate.

"Where's Riley?!" he demanded.

"She went back into the block a few minutes ago!" Beth answered, her voice shrill with fear.

"Dammit!" Daryl cursed, glancing over to the cell block entry, which was completely covered with walkers. "Dammit, dammit, dammit!"

* * *

"Dammit," Riley whispered, risking a glance behind her. She did a double-take, realizing there was some kind of chain cell behind her. She instantly latched on, climbing to the top of the fence with ease. She stood, peering down at the walkers just as they slammed their bodies against the cell.

Riley leaned up against the wall, closing her eyes and exhaling in relief. She could handle a fight like this, where she no doubt had the better hand. She could pick them off, one at a time.

In the distance, she could hear gunshots and screaming, reminding her that she wasn't the only person in this prison. Her eyes snapped open as her thoughts shot back to Daryl.

If the cells here were overrun, the whole prison could - and, by the sound of it, currently was - be overrun. Riley had to find Daryl, and make sure he was okay. After that, she'd do damage control and slaughter as many corpses as she could.

Riley looked around for another way out. She could jump over the walkers' heads and sprint out the door, but she doubted that she would make the jump without injuring her foot in some way. She glanced up at the walls, noticing a pipe running along the wall, right next to a vent.

Riley unbuckled her belt, holding it in her hands as she went to the far end of the cage. She bent down before sprinting and jumping across the space. For a heart-stopping second, there was nothing between her and death except for a few feet of open air.

Riley slammed into the pole, tightly clenching onto the metal. She slid down a good bit; low enough for their slimy fingers to dig into her ankles. Riley grunted, desperately trying to claw her way up. Blood from her grappling fingernails dripped down her hands, sending the walkers underneath into a frenzy.

The slight panic ebbed, and she wrapped the belt around the pole, pulling herself up. It only took a few seconds to get out of the walkers' reach and only a few more to reach the vent. She held on to the pole with her legs, reaching over and attempting to use her broken, bleeding fingernails as a screwdriver. When it became apparent that her method wasn't working, she pulled her gun from her boot, leaning away and covering one ear as she fired a bullet at one of the screws.

The white noise from the bullet filled her ears, and she violently shook her head to try and stop the world from spinning. She grabbed the broken vent cover, pulling it off.

Riley hoisted herself a little higher before swinging her legs in. Her torso followed, and luckily it was wide enough for her to turn around.

An ear-splitting alarm drowned out the walkers' moans. The sound echoed around the shaft, and Riley gritted her teeth and covered her ears with her hands. She used her elbows and knees, quickly crawling down the shaft. Eventually, the alarm and the walkers faded, and all Riley could hear was her short breaths.

Another path split across hers, making a T with the main passage. She wiggled her gun in front of her, emptying the cartridge into her hand. She left the gun pointing back the way she came and crawled towards the left. The shaft started to get narrower and narrower until Riley's broad shoulders couldn't fit. She slid backwards, passing the gun and going right.

This shaft broke off into several other paths. She sighed deeply; this would take forever. But the thought of Daryl getting torn apart spurred her on. She wouldn't lose anyone else. She left a bread trail with her bullets, getting increasingly more frustrated as the paths all led to dead-ends, or to hallways full of walkers.

For a second, she was hit with a small bout of panic. What if everyone else was dead? From the looks of things, there were plenty enough walkers to easily overrun their camp. She dropped her head in her hands, greedily gasping the limited oxygen. She would die in here: from dehydration, aspyhixation, whatever. She would shrivel up and disintegrate into a pile of ash and bones. The great Riley Todd, killed by air and water in a ventilation shaft.

_Oh, God, I'm about to have another episode. _Riley struggled to breathe, cupping her hands over her ears. She squeezed her eyes shut, curling up into herself as she struggled to get her heart rate under control. She couldn't remember the last one she had; it had been a few weeks at the very least. God, she needed Daryl.

After a minute, the feeling passed, and she went without an episode. Her group was smart; at least one person made it out. Plus, she wasn't about to give up. When she goes down, it'll be heroic. It'll be for something, not scrambling to protect herself.

A faint amount of light reflected off the smooth metal interior. She slithered towards it, looking through the grate. The boiler room was dark, and she could only see one walker, crouched over and - by the sounds of it - eating something.

Riley backed up and turned around, forcefully kicking the grate out. The grate clattered against the ground, sounding deafening in the silence. Silence... The alarms were off. Either whatever powered them ran out of juice, or someone had turned them off.

Riley jumped down a few feet, crouching onto a metal set of drawers. The walker growled, turning around and shuffling lethargically over to her. He was apparently stuffed on what he had eaten, which was-

Riley's eyes widened hugely at the sight of the woman on the floor. All that was left was her head and shoulders, but Riley would recognize Lori anywhere.

"Oh my God," she muttered, kicking the walker back and dropping onto the ground. The walker was so full that he couldn't get off his back. He resembled a beetle, rocking back and forth and waving his limbs around in a desperate attempt to get up.

Riley crouched down next to what was left of the corpse, feeling her stomach shrivel a little. There was a single gunshot wound in her head. Someone had to have done that, which meant someone was alive, for sure.

What happened to the baby? Riley glanced down at where her abdomen should have been, only seeing a puddle of crimson blood.

Surprisingly, Riley felt a twinge of sorrow. She leaned forward and closed the glazed blue eyes, standing back up. "Sorry," she mumbled, throwing one last glance at the still-stuck walker before turning and slipping out of the room.

* * *

Daryl watched anxiously as Maggie and Carl shuffled out into the courtyard. Maggie was incoherent, sobbing and clutching a blood-soaked baby. Carl's eyes were hard, and he stiffly stopped in the middle of the yard, avoiding all eye contact.

All color drained from Rick's face, and he walked over to Carl. "L-Lori?" he stammered. Carl didn't move.

"No..." Rick moaned, tears pooling down his face. He sobbed earnestly, walking away and falling onto the ground.

A lump rose in Daryl's throat, and he looked away to blink away the smarting in the corners of his eyes. He glanced around at their group, noticing all the missing people: Lori, T-Dog, Carol...

Riley was still gone.

He wasn't going to lie; he thought she was going to just appear. She had a way of sneaking up on people, just suddenly making her presence known one way or another. He'd thought he would turn around, and she would just be there, behind him, with her bloodstained shirt and matted hair, and shoot him a tiny smile.

But she wasn't. She still hadn't shown up.

Daryl crossed over to Maggie and Glenn. "Where's Riley?" he asked.

"I- I didn't see her," Maggie sobbed, shaking her head.

Daryl's heart dropped, and he readjusted his sweaty grip on his crossbow. Riley couldn't die; she'd made it through things no normal human being could. And he wasn't the only one; everyone in their group thought Riley to be invincible.

Daryl turned around towards Axel and Oscar. "Did you two see her?!" he demanded.

They shook their heads, Axel looking at the man sympathetically.

Daryl growled, cursing under his breath as he turned around. He started running towards their cellblock; she had to be inside the prison somewhere.

"D-Daryl!" Glenn called.

Daryl stopped, turning around and following the Asian's gaze.

From the same way Maggie and Carl had come, Riley appeared. She shrank back into the darkness for a second before shuffling forwards. Her limbs were moving stiffly, and she was covered in dust and blood. She pushed open the gate, stumbling out into the courtyard.

Daryl heaved a sigh of relief, sprinting up to her. "Ya okay?" he demanded, frantically looking her over.

Riley just nodded, glancing around at the remnants of their camp. She did a head count, and a rock of fear settled in her stomach. "T-Dog?" she asked, looking up at Daryl.

He shook his head, muttering an apology. Daryl didn't miss the liquid pooling up in her green eyes; he pulled her into his chest so nobody would see her. She clutched onto his jean jacket, listening to Rick's devastated sobs.

"I thought you were dead," she whispered.

"I ain't 'boutta let dead people kill me," he retorted.

"I saw Lori," Riley confessed, leaning back and wiping at the tear on her cheek. She smudged the blood and dust, wiping her hand on her jeans. "But it was just her head. Is that the baby?"

Daryl glanced at Maggie with Riley, nodding. "Maggie delivered it."

Riley's jaw clenched, and she shook her head. "I should've been here," she growled, furious. "I was there, in the courtyard, and then I walked away. If I'd been there two seconds longer-"

"Stop that," Daryl ordered. "This wasn't yer fault. It was that other guy, the small black one...?"

"Andrew? I thought Rick killed him."

"Guess not. How'd ya get out?"

"I crawled through the ventilation shafts," Riley answered, shrugging.

"That explains this," Daryl said, brushing away the spiderwebs in her hair.

Riley watched her broken group forlornly. "What do we do now, Daryl?" she whispered.

"I don't know," he answered with a sigh.


	3. Chapter 2

Grief was a wild thing.

It drove people mad – Riley knew that better than most. It could turn even the gentlest, most docile people into a reeling drunkard, aiming their fists towards anything that excited their nervous system.

When a person was near the edge, it took a hell of a lot to bring them back. For Riley, it was the slap-in-the-face that she didn't have time to grieve; she had to protect what little family she had left. It was near impossible to guess what it was for other people.

Riley was an apathetic person, and every one knew it. She did what she thought was best for the group, regardless of their feelings for her actions. But not even she could deny her sympathy for Rick and his situation.

She did not envy him.

Life Goes On

**«** Chapter Two **»**

Riley and Daryl had instantly taken over as soon as it became apparent that Rick was out of his right mind. They started barking orders, delivering the baby over to Hershel and Beth. Maggie and Daryl went to collect the supplies they needed, leaving Glenn and Riley to take care of Rick.

"We shouldn't approach him at the same time," Riley stated as they strode quickly through the dark halls. "He's slipping; he could be violent."

"It's Rick," Glenn protested.

"Exactly," she replied. "Judging by the trail of walker corpses, he's out for blood."

Glenn's eyes widened as he took in the slain bodies; he hadn't noticed them.

"You'll go first. You've known him longer."

"Whoa, whoa, if he's violent right now-"

"You'll be fine," Riley assured, though she had no clue. If anything, Riley had a better shot at getting through to him. More often than not, he picked her to back him up on dangerous runs. She knew the man better than Glenn. "Just don't sneak up on him."

"Got it," Glenn retorted. Riley waved her fingers to stop him as they came to a corner, but he just kept strolling. Riley gritted her teeth in frustration - Rick or Daryl would've caught on to her signal immediately - and snatched the back of his shirt, yanking him back. She peeked around the corner, spotting Rick brutally slam his knife through a walker's head.

"Go," Riley urged, pushing the disgruntled Asian forwards. He glanced nervously over his shoulder one last time before approaching Rick.

"Rick?" he called.

Rick froze, his knuckles going white on his knife. Riley watched intensely as Glenn spoke softly to the man, trying to talk sense into him. Out of the blue, Rick lunged, slamming Glenn up against the wall and holding his knife up against his neck. Glenn turned white, gulping nervously.

"Chief," Riley barked, stepping around the corner. Rick jerked his gaze up to her, and Riley felt her heart pang. Through everything, she'd come to see Rick as a good leader and a friend. "I'm so sorry."

Rick slowly pulled away from Glenn, hanging his arms near his waist. Riley beckoned to Glenn, and the kid dashed behind her.

"Rick," Riley said. He hesitantly brought his gaze up to hers, opening his mouth like he was about to say something. He decided against it, just dazedly shaking his head and running in the other direction.

"S-Should we go after him?" Glenn stammered.

"No," Riley answered, turning and going back the way they came. They went back into their cellblock, staring at the walker bodies scattered across the floor. They cleared the block out, dumping them into the courtyard.

Riley strode back into the block while Glenn, Axel, and Oscar started digging graves. She glanced over at the silent baby in Hershel's arms, scowling. "Why isn't it crying?"

"_She's_ too weak to cry," Beth returned, stressing the 'she'. "She needs formula."

"Daryl and Maggie better get a move on," Hershel stated, rocking the baby.

Riley turned, climbing back up the chain gates. Her sore arms whined in protest, but she ignored them, slowly making her way back to the vent.

"What're you doin'?" Beth asked, watching from below.

"I left my gun in here," Riley grunted, squeezing her way into the shaft. It only took her about half an hour to collect everything (she spread it all out over a large area) and get back.

She leaned her head and shoulders out of the shaft, glancing down. She couldn't make it back the way she came; she was too worn out for that. But the twenty-foot drop was too intense for her to just jump.

She peered through the door, noticing that Maggie and Daryl had returned. "Daryl! Glenn!"

The two boys came over, obediently standing beneath her. "What the hell are ya doin', Ri?" Daryl demanded.

"I left my gun in there. Will you push that table over here?" She pointed at the stone table, and they (with difficulty) moved it under her. Daryl caught on to what she was trying to do and jumped on top of the table. He held up his arms, grabbing her hands and pulling her out. Once she was far enough out, he grabbed her waist, setting her down on the table.

"Thanks," she stated, their chests touching. Daryl didn't make any motion to move, and she didn't either. "Find the formula?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry about Carol," she whispered. Though Riley didn't care for the woman and wouldn't miss her, Daryl clearly felt differently.

He cast his eyes downward, letting go of Riley. He jumped back down onto the ground, helping her down as well. "I'm sorry 'bout T," he responded.

Riley's frown deepened, and she shook her head. "Everyone dies," she muttered.

They went back into the cellblock, where Daryl picked up the baby. "Hey, little girl," he cooed. Riley leaned against the wall, watching silently. "What are we gonna call ya, huh?"

"I was thinking... Maybe Lori? Or Carol... Or Andrea, Amy, Jacqui, Simmie."

Riley turned her eyes downward. Those six names didn't even account for half the losses; the names of those they'd lost weighed down on her constantly. Every time she looked at Rick, she saw Shane. And when she thought of Shane, she thought of Dale, who died during the winter from the flu. And every time she thought of the winter, she thought of Sky - sweet, loyal Sky - who'd died after the wound from her broken leg got infected. And every time she thought of Sky, she thought of Spider, the newborn colt back at Hershel's farm. And more often than not, it was Spider who sent Riley spiraling over the edge. Because of that damned painting Simmie had done of Spider, which had taken up residence in her back pocket next to her picture of Spencer.

She took a ragged breath. She could add one more name to the list of dead friends/loved ones: T-Dog. She hadn't been best friends with him, but he was right behind Rick and Daryl. A lot during the winter, when she felt Daryl was suffocating her, she'd go to T-Dog. Sometimes they'd just sit quietly, and sometimes she'd vent. And all during the winter, when Daryl couldn't bring her to even look at him, T-Dog was the one who could make her laugh.

Riley's lips began to tremble, and she knew she wouldn't make it much longer. She kept her head down, stalking past their happy little group and out into the yard.

The stars shone like diamonds against the black sky, twinkling uncertainly. Riley stared up at them for a moment before glancing at the few walkers surrounding the fence. She could faintly hear their groans as they stuck their grimy fingers through the chain link.

She slipped her hand into her pocket, pulling out the two pieces of paper. She suddenly fell backwards, staring up at the stars. She ran her fingers over the papers, putting each picture in a different hand. She didn't have to look at them to know which was which. And she definitely didn't have to look at them to feel the pain in her chest.

It felt like centuries had passed since she'd seen Spencer. If it weren't for the picture, Riley would've forgotten what she looked like.

A stab of panic laced through her heart. The mental image of Simmie was faint at best. In her nightmares, she was just a blob, her face constantly changing. Her hair wasn't hard to forget; it was just black and wavy.

"Riley?"

Riley's breath came in fast gasps, and her stomach was tightly clenched. "I can't remember..." She struggled, digging deep into her memory. It was there; it had to be. It'd only been a few months, she couldn't have forgotten already!

"Can't 'member what?" Daryl asked, standing next to her.

"What... Simmie looked..." She couldn't talk; all her energy was focused on trying to get air into her lungs. The stars were starting to blend into the sky, and her head throbbed.

"Hey, hey." Daryl instantly dropped to his knees, propping her up against his chest. Her chest was rising and falling like a hummingbird's, and her whole body was trembling. He wrapped his arms around her torso, holding her tightly as sweat dripped down her cheeks and mingled with her tears.

"I can't-" she gasped.

"Sh, sh, sh, it's okay," Daryl soothed, rubbing her back slowly.

"I-"

"Don't talk, Ri," he muttered, leaning forward and pulling off her shoes. He widened the brim on her right boot and retrieving the few Xanax pills she taped inside her shoes. He handed her two, and she quickly gulped them down.

He leaned his cheek against the top of her hair, holding her closely. He listened as her breathing slowly calmed, and the death grip she had on his arms loosened.

"How long has it been since the last one?" Daryl asked.

"Um. It was that day when we passed through that little town and holed up in the storage unit," Riley muttered, reaching up and wiping her sweat-soaked hair back from her face. She sighed, exhausted, and rested her head against his chest.

"Better?"

She swallowed several times, trying to get past the lump in her throat. Fresh tears pooled once again in her eyes, and when she spoke, her voice was thin and strained. "Not really," she confessed, her body shaking with a sob. Daryl pulled her closer, letting her bury her head in his elbow as she sobbed.

"I can't- I can't-"

"I know," Daryl responded, stroking her hair. He was used to these by now; her panic attacks were usually always followed by her breaking down. Luckily she trusted him enough to let him be with her during these episodes.

The attacks hadn't come for several weeks. Riley had begun to believe that they had stopped happening. She hated them more than anything, but she was powerless to stop them. A few months after the farm was when they were worse; she had one at least every other day for a couple of weeks. And luckily, Daryl had been there for every single one. He was the only one who knew, thankfully, and he sat patiently during all of them. Even after the danger passed, and she just sat and cried.

"I m-miss Simmie," she stammered, her heart aching.

"I know, babe," he retorted.

"I'm not- I-I need-"

"Hush," he ordered. "Ya're gonna set yourself off again. Take one of these." He handed her a sleeping pill, and she didn't bother to protest. She'd take anything to get over the hurt she was feeling right then.

The sleeping pill, combined with the lack of sleep she'd had for the past few days, acted almost instantaneously. Her eyelids drooped, and her fingers lessened their grip on Daryl's arm. "Dar… the ba…" she mumbled groggily before she went under.

"Yeah," Daryl responded in a throaty whisper, pulling her closer. "The baby."

Riley was conscious long before she managed to open her eyes again. For the first time in God-knows-how-long, she wasn't woken up by some heart-wrenching, terrifying nightmare delivered on a silver platter from Satan himself. Her mouth tasted thick and dry, like cotton. Her eyelids felt glued, and she grunted, wriggling to wrap the thin blanket tighter around her body.

She slowly became aware of her surroundings and the sounds filling her ears; most prominently the wails of a screaming child. She groaned, pulling the blanket up over her head in a weak attempt to sink back into sleep. As the baby carried on, accompanied by the voices of pretty much everyone in their group, Riley finally decided to give up on falling back asleep.

She rolled off the dirty mattress onto the metal floor, sucking in a sharp breath at the coolness. She sat up on her knees, head spinning and black dots appearing in her vision. She frowned deeply, glancing around the block in confusion.

"Rise an' shine, princess," Daryl called from across the room, shooting her a grin.

She scowled at him, angry that he'd taken advantage of her and given her the stupid sleeping pill. He knew how much she hated sleeping pills. The baby's constant shrieking didn't much help her already foul mood. "Can someone shut up that damn baby?" Riley demanded, rising to her feet and glaring at the baby, which was right next to her. Whose idea was that?

Beth was bouncing the baby, and she shot Riley an exhausted look. During the course of the winter, Beth had slowly lost her fear of the agent. It was hard to fear someone who was constantly so caught up in her grief or slaying threats that she couldn't even pay attention to the little things like scaring people.

"I'm trying," Beth grumbled.

"Try harder," Riley ordered slowly, enunciating every word with intense loathing. She hated sleep, but at the same time she just wanted to go back to it. Her inability to choose between her feelings just made her all the more furious.

"She's doin' the best she can," Hershel stated from down below, crutching out of one of the cells.

"Where is everybody?" Riley asked, climbing down the ladder.

"Rick and Carl went outside, and Maggie and Glenn went on a run," Hershel answered.

"They went on a run and no one told me?" Riley demanded, turning her disbelieving gaze on Daryl.

He just shrugged, whittling away at his stupid arrows. "Ya were asleep."

Riley grumbled a string of curses, slipping on her combat boots and rearming herself. She changed her mind- she definitely _hated_ sleeping. "How long have I been asleep?"

"'Bout a day," Daryl responded nonchalantly, glancing up at her and smiling again.

What was up with his mood? She would've thought that the unceasing noise called a human child would've made him just as irritated as she was. The baby hadn't stopped crying to take a breath in the time she'd been awake. Riley gritted her teeth, redoing her ponytail, which was difficult considering the matts and tangles in her hair.

"Riley?"

Riley whirled around, staring intently at the cell. The fragile, whiny voice was _very_ familiar, and Riley could only hope that it was real. At first, she didn't see any body to accompany the voice, and Riley's heart sank to her feet as she thought that the hallucinations might be coming back.

But then a dirt-covered, trembling, bone-thin Carol leaned around the door. Her blue eyes lit up, then darkened, then just looked confused. She stood up and awkwardly fidgeted, unsure of what to do. Carol was all too aware of how the agent regarded her; she almost hadn't called out at all.

Riley glanced at Daryl, who was full-blown grinning by now. "How?"

"Found her in a cell down in the next floor," Daryl answered, staring – almost affectionately – at the older woman. "Nearly died of dehydration."

Riley couldn't believe what was happening. As she stared at him, not once did he look back up at her. Fury and jealousy boiled in her chest, which made her even angrier that she felt jealous. Of _Carol. _

She needed to kill something.

Daryl finally looked at Riley, clearly confused at her blazing eyes. She just set her jaw and stormed out of the cellblock, ready to join Carl and Rick in whatever they were doing. She couldn't stand to watch those two any longer.

No wonder he was in such a damn good mood. He was reunited with his damn lover.

As soon as she stepped out into the courtyard, Rick and Carl entered, the former holding an unconscious black woman over his shoulder. Riley didn't bother hammering Rick with questions; he was under enough emotional stress without her interrogating him.

The whole group joined them in the little room off of the cellblock, watching as Rick talked to the woman. It was a very one-sided conversation, and Riley knew right away that she would have to be the one to crack this girl.

She missed out on Carol's joyous reunion, staying in the room with the woman. The woman didn't sit, and neither did Riley; they stared each other down, muscles tense and shoulders back. Eventually, the woman had to sit down because of her wound, but her eyes remained just as hard.

Rick, Daryl, and Hershel came back into the room, interrogating her. She gave them the details they wanted, and Rick and Daryl left Hershel alone with the two women. Daryl tried to catch Riley's gaze before he left, but she moved away, completely ignoring him.

The woman stayed silent as Hershel sewed up her wound, staring intently at Riley. Not halfway through, Carl entered the room.

"Riley, everyone wants you," he announced.

"Watch her. If she moves, kill her," she ordered the boy, not bothering to lower her voice. She turned on her heel, stalking into the cellblock and joining the group clustered around the stairs.

"We're going to Woodbury," Rick told her. "We could use your help."

"No," Riley deadpanned, crossing her arms.

"'No'?" Daryl repeated in disbelief. "You ain't comin'?"

"Oh, I'm going," she retorted. "But that's it. Just me."

Daryl snorted, shaking his head. "Ri, you're good, but you ain't that good." The looks of immediate disapproval on everyone else's faces clearly showed that they sided with Daryl.

Riley was frustrated beyond belief; ever since she'd woken up things had just kept going downhill for her. "Listen," she snapped, her voice low and harsh, like a whip. "I'm a damn spy; this is what I did most of my life. Chances are, Glenn and Maggie have already told them where we are. I'll sneak in, gain everyone's trust, get the upper hand. I'll find out about this 'Governor' and go from there."

"It's too dangerous!" Daryl barked, shaking his head. "No way."

"Trust me, I've been in much more dangerous situations," Riley shot back. "I know how to handle myself."

"What about Glenn and Maggie?" Beth asked. "Are you just gonna keep them there with you?"

"I'll get them out," Riley answered.

"Stop!" Daryl exclaimed. "You ain't goin'!"

Rick held up a hand to silence the infuriated redneck, shaking his head.

"Ya gotta be shittin' me!" Daryl growled.

"It's a good plan," Rick answered. "We don't how many people there are; we could be completely out of our league. That woman could be lying, and we could walk straight into a trap."

"So we send Riley into the trap instead," he sneered.

"No, we send Riley to distract the trap. We need this. We can't just go running in there."

Daryl took several agitated steps in the other direction, shaking his head in fury. He spun back around, storming up into her face. "You ain't goin'!"

"Yes, she is," Rick growled, answering for her. "That's it. No more debating. Riley." He nodded his head back towards the room with the woman, motioning for her to follow. She fell into step beside him, ignoring Daryl's heated glare.

He could go whine to Carol about it.

* * *

**Rofl, that last line... Kills me every time (': Riley's so freaking funny I swear... At least to me... While I cower behind my computer screen... **

**Thank you for all the favorites and follows! Don't be shy with the reviews... They're my favorite (:**

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**Leyshla Gisel: Hopefully... It's not like this is a horror story or anything (; Haha thank you!**

**SeverusSnape'sLove: I really do hope you understand how hard it is for me to say your username... It's unkind to people with lisps -_- hahaha! Thank you so much (:**


	4. Chapter 3

The façade was what Riley enjoyed the most.

Not the surprised look on her opponent's faces as they learned they underestimated the average-looking woman in a fight, not the hidden pride of being better than the best espionages in the world, not even the champagne and thousand-dollar dresses. The sneaking around, the lying, the playing her part… It was thrilling. She constantly had to toe the line- never getting too far away or pushing too hard.

It was the thrill of the chase but getting caught meant death…

Or worse.

Life Goes On

**«** Chapter Three **»**

Riley strode with Rick after giving him what little information she would. Rick, of course, was pressing for more, but she denied him. The less he knew, the better. If they ever saw each other while she was still incognito, she didn't want him slipping up anything.

After trading her bloody, forest green tank top with Beth's pink flowery blouse (that made Riley slightly nauseous) and shadowing Beth for the day, Riley finally was ready to leave. Their group clustered in the courtyard, all looking expectantly at the woman.

"You got all your weapons?" Daryl asked.

"This is it," she retorted, pointing to the knife and set of nun-chucks pinned to her belt. She avoided his gaze as best she could; she was still pissed about the whole Carol situation from that morning.

Daryl just grunted, pinning her with his piercing gaze. He knew she was furious, but he was confused as to what. She raised her chin, steadily meeting his eyes.

"What happens if ya get into trouble?" Beth's trembling voice came from the semi-circle around Riley.

The brunette shrugged. "I fight or I die."

Beth looked dissatisfied with the answer, frowning down at the baby who, coincidentally, chose that moment to let out a wail. Riley's brow furrowed as she glared at the child.

"She won't die," Rick argued. "We've all seen her; we know how good she is."

"And you haven't even seen the half of it," Riley stated in a matter-of-fact tone. She knew she was good. She was one of the damn best agents the CIA had, and she was going up against a group of nobody hillbillies with machine guns. She'd have to be _trying_ to get caught to get caught.

"What did you _do_ before the world went to shit?" Axel asked, staring at the confident woman in wonder.

Riley fixed him with her sharp emerald eyes. "I was a spy." She turned back to Rick. "I'm ready now."

Rick nodded, pulling out the keys for one of the cars and heading over to the vehicle.

"Actually," Daryl interrupted, jogging to intercept the two. "I'll take her."

Rick glanced at Riley's deep scowl to Daryl's cocky smirk before shrugging, handing over the keys. Whatever was going on between them, he definitely did not want to get involved.

Riley huffed in frustration, clambering into the car and slamming shut the door. Daryl followed suit, starting the engine. Glenn opened the gates for them, and Riley left her group without a wave, goodbye, or a glance over her shoulder.

Daryl was whistling. The shit was _whistling_ and _smiling_ and _drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to some imaginary beat._

And he was getting his desired effect: it was driving Riley insane. She tried her hardest to ignore him, staring straight ahead, her face set in stone. Eventually, he started picking up on her faint body language; if he did a high-pitched, sharp whistle, her brow would twitch just faintly. If he grinned too widely, the knuckles of her clenched fists would go pale.

After almost half an hour, Riley finally couldn't take it anymore. "Would you stop?!" she exploded, turning her murderous gaze on Daryl.

"Wha?" he questioned, looking innocently at her. "Jus' enjoyin' life." He kept eye contact with her as a slow, Cheshire-cat grin spread across his face.

She shook her head, clenching her jaw in fury. "I'm imagining killing you four different ways right now. And none of them involve weapons of any kind," she threatened darkly.

"Ya want me to stop?"

"Yes," she growled.

He shrugged. "I will. Jus' tell me what's got ya so pissed."

She shook her head, turning to look back out the window.

He whistled sharply, and she winced. "It is stupid!" she snapped, jerking her gaze back to him. "It is stupid, emo-teenage drama, and I will get the hell over it like I always do!"

"Well you better tell me your stupid, emo-teenage drama if ya want me to stop."

Her eyes narrowed, and Daryl could just see the steam pouring from her ears. She was menacing as hell, but not so much to him. He knew she wouldn't hurt him. One glance at her face made him change his mind: she wouldn't _kill_ him. Hurting him was definitely in the ballpark of possibilities.

"Are you tryin' to be a baby and pull away 'cause of your attack?" Daryl asked, dropping his cheerful act. That's what she had tried to do at first, right after the farm, but they'd quickly straightened that out.

She shook her head. "No."

"Is it 'cause of Lori and the baby?"

She shook her head. "Not 'cause of T either," she stated in a way that made him think he was close to figuring out the reason.

His brow furrowed for a second before he realized the answer. "Carol?" he demanded. One look at her cold face was enough to answer his question. He shook his head. "You get mad because that damn woman's not _dead?_"

"No, because you're freaking picking daises and making flower necklaces!" she snapped. "Ever since she got back you've had this stupid little grin on your face, and you can't stop staring at her!"

"I _told_ ya ya didn't haveta worry!" Daryl protested.

"I'm not worried; I'm not an imbecile, either. I can tell when someone's interested," she glowered darkly, leaning towards the door.

"Dammit, Riley, I swear to _God-_" Daryl pounded on the brakes, slamming the car into park and turning to face her. "If I told ya not to be jealous, that means ya don't have to be jealous!"

"I'm not jealous; I'm _pissed_ because you picked her!"

Daryl snorted a laugh, rubbing a hand over his weary face. "Ri, I didn't pick her."

"Yes, you did." Riley was smoldering. Her green eyes were blazing in the setting sun's light, and Daryl could see the faint freckles standing out against her flushed cheeks. Her jaw was clenched so tightly he was afraid it might shatter, and her nails had to have been embedding themselves into her palms, though she showed no sign of pain.

Daryl knew what he wanted to say. It hung on his tongue, and he desperately wanted to just say it. But Riley, in all her terrifying, CIA, apathetic monstrous self, was like a deer. If he said the wrong thing it would absolutely shatter their glass ecosystem that they'd managed to carefully build around them.

But he knew Riley's jealousy had been festering for some time, and it had finally boiled over. If he let her walk away, if he let her just go to Woodbury without fighting back, she might not come back to him. It might just be the end.

Riley was the most stubborn person he'd ever met in his life, and he was brothers with Merle Dixon. She was as set in her ways as a glacier; once she had made a decision, you were damned if you tried to change her mind. She'd either make you agree to it with her silver tongue, threaten you, or just do it regardless (the last one seemed to be her preferred option).

Riley did a double take, expecting him to be furiously glaring at her. Instead, he was just … observing her, with an almost serene look on his face. An honest-to-God _smile_ was carved across his mouth, and his eyes were lit up in the red sunset.

"What's wrong with you?" she questioned, furrowing her brow.

He snorted in amusement, finally dropping his gaze. "Nothing."

She huffed, shaking her head. She was right, and Daryl wasn't even trying to argue with her about it. Surprisingly, the thought hurt a lot more than she expected. Her heart panged, and bitter tears of disappointment brimmed in the corners of her eyes. She had wanted him to fight for her. "Let's just go," she choked out, her voice strained.

Daryl jerked his gaze up, not missing her teary tone. She refused to look at him, arms crossed tightly over her abdomen.

"Riley, for bein' the damn smartest person I know, you're a damn idiot."

Riley whirled to face him, aghast. Had he _honestly _just said that? And then he had the audacity to _smile_ at her. "Excuse me?"

"I don't want Carol," he promised, leaning forward. He dropped his gruff voice several octaves. "I want you."

She just snorted, shaking her head and looking away. "Nice try," she mumbled.

"Ri, I … love you."

Riley whipped her head around so fast it almost gave her whiplash. Daryl was avoiding her gaze, shy as always when it came to expressing any emotion other than anger.

He finally picked his eyes up just in time to her face forwards, eyes wide and cheeks pale. She pressed her lips tightly together, her throat moving as she swallowed.

"Are ya shittin' me?" he demanded, getting angry at her silence. "Ya ain't even gon' say nothin' back?"

"I can't," she whispered.

"Why the hell not?!"

"You do realize that everyone I've ever said that to has died, right?" she demanded, turning her accusing gaze on him. He could see the pain shining clearly in her translucent eyes. "Everyone I've ever loved; every damn one."

Daryl's anger faded away, and he shook his head. "I ain't goin' nowhere, Ri. I ain't plannin' on dyin' soon."

The corners of Riley's lips dipped down. "I can't. I just can't."

Out of nowhere, he swooped in, pressing his lips against hers. She resisted for a second before melting into the kiss, leaning into him. Their lips molded against each other's in a way that was exclusive just for them. Riley's breath hitched in her throat, and she suddenly climbed over the console, attacking his lips with hers.

Bliss descended on the two as they moved to the backseat, leaving their clothes in the front seats.

They didn't start the car again until morning. Daryl and Riley kept both smiling, sharing secret glances. Their first time had been completely amazing, and Riley hated the fact that now she had to leave. If she didn't…

"This is far enough," Riley stated, noticing a landmark the black woman had told them.

The couple got out of the car, trudging through the forest until they came in sight of the fortress. Riley frowned at the huge wall, donned with men posted on top of the overturned trucks.

"Okay," she muttered, retreating behind the tree. "I don't know when I'll be back."

"See you later. I'll be pissed if you die," he warned, smirking and landing another kiss on her slightly swollen lips.

"Same for you. I'll be safe enough here at Fort Knox."

"I better go." He kissed her one last time before silently sneaking off towards the car.

Riley leaned her head back against the trunk, allowing a faint smile to cross her mouth. She took her time, slowly changing her mindset. She was no longer Riley; she had no clue who Riley was.

Riley stood there, letting her mind unravel before slowly coming back together as a different person. Fellow CIA operatives laughed at her methods, but she and the Director never took them for granted. Whatever the hell she did, it worked.

Riley waited next to that tree for forty long minutes until a walker staggered out of the dense underbrush. She pulled out her knife, letting it get close enough to see her before running out into the clear path leading to Woodbury.

She let her bewildered gaze flicker up to the fortress before doing a mystified double take. She tripped over her own feet, falling spread-eagle on the ground and banging her chin. The knife flew out of her hands, sliding across the dirt.

"Help!" she screamed, her voice thin and hoarse, like she'd been shouting for a while. She waved an arm to the people watching her from the truck, crawling on her hands and knees to grab the knife.

She felt the walker fall on her legs, and she instinctively ripped her foot out, slamming it against the walker's face.

She scrambled away, picking up the knife and jumping agilely to her feet. She jerked her neck, flipping her wild hair out of her face as the walker staggered upright. Riley jumped forward, stabbing the blade right between his eyes.

The walker dropped, revealing three more heading straight towards her. Their moans and growls made Riley's heart rate kick up. She wanted to sail after them – rip their throats out – but she knew it wasn't what the new her would do.

She started running backwards, trying to avoid the fight. She kept shouting to the people up on the truck, who watched with wide eyes, shouting to one another.

Riley stabbed another walker, dancing backwards to avoid having the corpse tumble on her. Suddenly, gunshots rang out and the last two walkers dropped lifelessly to the ground.

Riley let out a sigh of relief, her chest heaving. She turned to face the city again, loudly thanking the man on top of the truck. He just nodded before waving her over. She obeyed, clumsily climbing up a ladder.

"Thank you so much," she gushed, her eyebrows pinched up in concern. "I can never thank you enough."

"Don't worry 'bout it," he returned, holding the machine gun in his hands. He looked about the same age as Riley, with a dark complexion. Riley assumed he was Latino, especially considering his Spanish accent, sprinkled with the familiar country twang of the South. "What's your name?"

"Rose Collins," Riley answered. "Thank you again!"

The man seemed to get a little uncomfortable, shifting back a step. The other sentries atop the truck were unabashedly staring at Riley. "Martinez."

"It's nice to meet you," she drawled, her voice mimicking Beth's as a wide smile split across her face. She glanced inside the fortress, her jaw dropping as she saw civilians strolling around as if they were out for a Sunday afternoon walk. There were even a few dogs. "Uh… w-wow. What is this place?" she stammered.

"Woodbury," the man replied. "The Governor probably wants to talk to you."

Riley turned wide eyes to Martinez. "The Governor?"

"Yeah. He sorta runs this joint," Martinez replied nonchalantly. "That is, if you wanna stay?"

Riley snorted in amusement, shaking her head and staring at the city again. "Like that's even a question. Let's meet the Governor."

* * *

**Sorry that it's been so long since an update! I've just been really focused on my SPN fanfiction, but I'll try to keep up with this one too!**

**Leyshla Gisel: Haha I promise Riley will get better, as shown by this chapter! But you have to keep in mind her best friend died right in front of her, the one person she thought she would never lose. Thank you for the review (:**

**Maddy-MarieXO: Hahaha trust me, Riley is the funny one! She writes herself! Thank you for the review! (:**

**SeverusSnape'sLove: Well I think this chapter cleared that up real quick (; Haha thanks for the review (:**

**shika93: Hahah me too! Thank you for reviewing!**

**ElectroGirl444: Aww thank you so much! I'm glad you're enjoying it(:**

**DoctorBoo24: Thank you! You're awesome, and I'm so happy you like this story! Thank you for reading!(:**

**Pok3monTrain3rBlu3: Haha I thought so too! Thank you for the review! (:**


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